


The Drift

by NeverAndAlways



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Drift Hangover, Drift Side Effects, Drifting, Drifting with a Kaiju Brain, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Seizures, angsty Hermann
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 08:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1773013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverAndAlways/pseuds/NeverAndAlways





	The Drift

Newton had been quiet for almost two hours, Hermann realized. That was two hours too long; he was probably up to something. Mein Gott, it was like living with a child...Hermann eased himself off his bed and picked up his cane, wincing as his joints popped, and limped to the door. So much for reading in peace...

When he opened the laboratory door a few minutes later, Hermann was greeted by the acrid smell of burnt rubber. Though disgusting, that wasn't terribly unusual; he waved a hand in front of his nose as he scanned the room. No sign of Dr. Geiszler so far, just tables littered with kaiju entrails and lab equipment...then his gaze landed on the ugly behemoth of a machine in the corner. He groaned inwardly; what in Heaven's name was Geiszler up to now? The thing looked like the equipment used for Drifting, but far more crude; it seemed to be cobbled together from random peices of machinery, although it was hard to tell where one ended and another began. On one side, it was connected by a cord to the specimen tank holding the kaiju brain segment; a cord protruding from the opposite side connected to- oh no.

"Newton! Newton, what have you DONE-??"

Anger rose in his chest even as he rushed to the young man's side. 'How dare you, what were you thinking?!' he fumed to himself. But then his anger turned into fear as he looked down and saw the convulsions rippling through Newton's rigid body. Oh mein gott, he's having a seizure, Hermann realized with horror. His mind raced. 'Think, Gottlieb think, what do you-' the pons: disconnect him first. With shaking hands, he reached up to remove the three-pronged headpiece. He rattled at the clasp for a moment, realized it was still transmitting and then, for lack of a better solution, hit the damned thing. That seemed effective; he yanked the pons from Newt's head and tossed it aside.

"Dr. Geiszler...!" he tried to keep his voice from shaking as he looked Newt up and down. The tremors were subsiding, but the young man was pale and clammy; his nose was bloody, suggesting that he may have hit it when he fell; instead of rigid, he was now frighteningly limp. "Newton?" instinctively, Hermann pressed a finger to Newt's jawline to feel for a pulse...it was there alright, racing as though he'd run a marathon. That was something of a relief. He moved his hand to Newt's shoulder. "Newton, mein schatz, can you hear me...?" Fear and anger still wrestled for position in his mind (along with embarrassment, now; 'mein schatz', Hermann, really? What if Newton had heard you?): he was angry at Newt for disobeying Marshal Pentecost's direct order, afraid that the moron might have permanently injured himself...Newt's eyes flickered open and zeroed in on Hermann's face.

"H'rm'nn," he slurred, and flung one arm around Hermann's neck. "'M sorry."

"You are an idiot." Hermann growled.

"No, no, I used a generator...!"

Hermann frowned. The man didn't seem to be all there..."Newton, do you know where you are...?"

Newt glanced around the room. "Yeah." then he frowned. "...I think." he looked around again, with dawning realization, and there was concern in his eyes when he turned back to Hermann. "Why, uh...why'm I on the floor...? What happened?"

"You've had a seizure," said Hermann. Anger came surging back, and he was almost tempted to shake the younger man. "Newton, I **told** you not to do this, and so did the Marshal, and look at where it's gotten you. What were you **thinking** , you IDIOT??"

"'M sorry," Newt said softly, avoiding Hermann's gaze. He tightened his grip, pulling the mathematician closer. "I thought I could-"

"I don't want to hear it." Hermann snapped. 

"But-"

"No." Hermann untangled himself from Newt, hooked one hand under the man's arm and the other on a nearby table, and hauled them both to their feet. He guided an unsteady Newt to a chair, picked up his cane from the floor, and turned back to the scientist. Some part of him couldn't help but notice how small and frightened the man looked; the rest of him was too angry to care. His racing thoughts had consolidated themselves into one command that hung like a neon sign in his brain: find Marshal Pentecost. He'd know how to deal with this. "I'll be back," he told Newt, "you **stay put**." Newt nodded silently; Hermann turned sharply and hurried out of the lab.

~**  ◇◆◇  **~

Interrogating Newton was the last thing he'd expected Marshal Pentecost to do, but when they arrived in the lab, he did just that. Stacker immediately began questioning Newton about his Drift, what he'd seen and felt, what information he'd gotten, if any. Newton was still shaky; his voice trembled when he spoke, and his eyes were slightly unfocused, but he answered Stacker's questions as best he could. Hermann stood in the background, watching the scene unfold and resisting the growing urge to yell at Newton. Eventually, once a medical team had been called, the Marshal left- after shooting one final reprimand at Newton- and motioned for Hermann to follow. Hermann looked back at the young man, sitting scared and confused in the middle of the huge laboratory, and relucantly turned away to walk with the Marshal.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Dr. Gottlieb. Both of you." Stacker said darkly. "I gave a direct order; how could you have let him do this??" 

"With all due respect, sir," answered Hermann, "I am not his keeper. I am not responsible for him, nor can I control what he may or may not do."

"I am aware of that, Doctor. I am also aware that the two of you are very close. You may not control him, but you can sway his decision one way or another."

"I would not be so sure. Newton- Dr. Geiszler- is a...difficult man to work with, sir."

The Marshal sighed. "This is true."

They walked in relative slience for a few paces before Hermann spoke again. "...So what happens now...?"

Stacker thought for a moment. "While I can't condone what Dr. Geiszler has done, he has given us vital information about the kaiju that we cannot ignore." they had reached the control room; Stacker turned to face Hermann, his expression dark. "We have to work quickly if we want to put that information to use. Return to your lab; I'll be back in two hours' time with instructions for your next step." he nodded to Hermann. "You did the right thing in coming to me, Doctor. Thank you." with that, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the control room, leaving Hermann alone in the hallway.

~**  ◇◆◇  **~

Hermann limped slowly back to the laboratory, still tense and red-faced with anger but unsure if he was angry at Newt or himself. There was no way he could have stopped Newt, he knew that: the man was unpredictable at best. But what if-? No. There was no use in dwelling on it, he told himself. Anyway, it was a miracle that the thing hadn't killed Newt; an entire kaiju brain certainly would have, but even this small segment could easily have fried every last neuron and synapse in Newt's head...but that didn't bear thinking about.

He came to the K-Science lab. The huge iron door was wide open, and a path had been cleared through the tables and equipment within. It was a mess (well, more of a mess than usual, anyway). He walked inside. The medical team had shuffled things around so much to reach Newt that he barely recognized the place. One of his chalkboards had been moved aside (and part of his latest calculations had been smudged out, he noticed with a twinge of resentment); Newt's equipment and dissecting tables had also been rearranged: his proudest and most recent acquisition, the right ventricle of a kaiju heart, had fallen to the floor and seemed to have been shoved aside. He could just imagine the fuss Newton must have made about that...

...Newton. Hermann looked around the lab again, as though seeing it for the first time. The crude Drifting equipment still sat in the corner, inactive now, just a pile of mechanical junk. And the room was...empty. Empty, and quiet. He'd never quite realized how much the young scientist's presence added to the place, but now...he sank into a chair. All of his anger had drained away, leaving a kind of horror in its place. Mein gott...Newton. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. How could he have been so harsh? The man had almost died, and all he'd done was yell at him. He'd almost lost Newton. A small part of him was almost surprised at this reaction; the younger man was such an irritant, so reckless and argumentative and loud, he should be glad to have a break...but at the same time, a dull, guilty ache was building in his chest. Newton had survived the Drift, but with the way things were going, he might very well die anyway- they all might. And Hermann would never see him again, he'd never get to apologize. He dragged a hand over his face and found, to his suprise, that his cheeks were wet. 

"Verdammt." he swore, and rummaged in his pockets for a tissue. Now was certainly not the time for crying. But the tears kept coming, even as he mopped at his eyes, and he quickly gave in. Alone in the empty lab, Hermann Gottlieb cried for the first time in years.

~**  ☆☆☆  **~ 


End file.
